Leaves of Grass · Chapter
Ethiopia Saluting the Colors explained
A brief encounter between a Union soldier marching under General Sherman and an elderly African woman, who was enslaved as a child and brought to America.
What happens
A brief encounter between a Union soldier marching under General Sherman and an elderly African woman, who was enslaved as a child and brought to America. She silently salutes the passing regiments, her presence a living testament to the horrors of slavery and the unfolding of history.
Themes in this chapter
America and Its People
The poem highlights the diverse and scarred human fabric of America, including those enslaved and their descendants.
Death and Immortality
The woman's ancient, 'hardly human' appearance and her silent witness evoke the enduring memory of past suffering.
Characters to notice
- Narrator
The soldier marching with Sherman's army who observes and questions the woman.
- Ethiopia
The ancient, enslaved African woman who salutes the Union colors, representing the legacy of slavery.
- America
Implied as the nation undergoing Civil War, with the woman's presence reflecting its troubled history.
- General Philip Sheridan
Mentioned as 'doughty Sherman,' the commander of the march through the Carolinas.
Key passages
“Who are you dusky woman, so ancient hardly human, With your woolly-white and turban’d head, and bare bony feet?”
The speaker asks the identity of an old Black woman, weathered and barefoot, who seems almost otherworldly.
Opens the poem with a direct, curious address to the woman, emphasizing her age and condition.
“Me master years a hundred since from my parents sunder’d, A little child, they caught me as the savage beast is caught, Then hither me across the sea the cruel slaver brought.”
She explains that she was kidnapped as a child from Africa over a century ago and brought to America as a slave.
Her brief, broken English speech reveals the core trauma of her life—the violent separation from her family and enslavement.
“No further does she say, but lingering all the day, Her high-borne turban’d head she wags, and rolls her darkling eye, And courtesies to the regiments, the guidons moving by.”
She says no more, but stays all day, nodding her turbaned head, rolling her eye, and bowing to the passing troops and flags.
Her silent, repeated gesture of saluting the colors becomes a powerful, ambiguous symbol of recognition or mourning.